


Sweet Sensation

by fictorium



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Blindfolds, Body Shots, Boss/Employee Relationship, Depowered Kara, Drinking, F/F, Femslash, Flying, Friends to Lovers, Girls' Night, Girls' Night Out, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Light Bondage, Sexual Experimentation, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-07 07:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7706131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Kara's powers are out.</p><p>Since that majorly dents Kara's evening activities and also cuts into her social life, enter Cat Grant to save Friday night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_dot_burr_ell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_dot_burr_ell/gifts).



> Happy birthday @a-dot-burr-ell!

“No movie night?” Kara sighed down the phone at her sister. “Alex, I haven’t seen you for more than five minutes all week. And that was only because I promised you some Bulletproof coffee.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex replies, sounding exhausted but genuine. “It’s just that the DEO has gotten kind of used to having you around. We all forgot how much more work it is to capture aliens our way. And not you know, by punching them out like you can.”

“Right,” Kara grumps. “Listen, I’m not loving being out of commission either. Did you find a way to jack up the sun lamps? That might-”

“Kara, no.” Alex stops the argument for the third time in as many days. “Your powers have to come back naturally. And I have seen too many Final Destination movies to mess around with that stuff.”

“Ew!” Kara yelps. “Don’t remind me, or I’ll never be able to relax under those lights again. I suppose this means there’s no point asking Lucy to come over either?”

“She’s slammed,” Alex confirms. Kara tries really, _really_ hard not to snigger. “Oh not like that. I regret telling you anything.”

“Hey, at least you’re getting laid while pulling overtime,” Kara sighs. “But it’s really crimping my social life. Breaking up with James sent him back to Metropolis, and Winn is having way too much fun being your ‘consultant’ to hang with me.”

“Kara?” Cat is at the door of her office, and Kara almost drops the phone in fright, juggling it awkwardly for a few seconds.

“Gotta go,” Kara shoots back at Alex, before hanging up the call and pretending her boss didn’t just get the jump on her. Even with no super hearing, Cat’s heels usually sound like a military tattoo in the marble lobby. “Did you need something, Miss Grant?”

“It’s after seven,” Cat points out. “And you know what that means?”

“That I can call you Cat,” Kara answers, nodding in acknowledgment of this brave new world where Cat is her friend, and something like her equal. It helps a lot to tell the truth, give or take dodging the end of the world once or twice. “So did you need something, Cat?”

“I don’t think I’m the one in need,” Cat points out, swaying her hips in that way she does that makes it kind of hard to concentrate on what she’s saying. Kara doubles down and tries not to stare when Cat places her hands on Kara’s desk and leans over. “You’re in need of a social life, it seems.”

“Well, people are just busy,” Kara tries to laugh it off. She doesn’t want Cat to think she’s _pathetic_. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m on sick leave from my night job.”

“I wondered,” Cat replies, which means she’s been thinking about it a whole bunch if Kara’s any judge. “You’ll let me know if I need to put anything out there as a diversion? Other people will notice, too.”

“It’s fine,” Kara assures her. Cat doesn’t need to be reminded there’s a ‘spare’ Kara to call on if things get particularly tricky, even if J’onn does find the skirt comfortable. “But thank you. Anyway, don’t you have plans? I know I don’t get the mail anymore, but you’ve never been short of somewhere to go on a Friday night.”

“I might be short of company,” Cat admits. “And Carter asked to spend this weekend with his father.”

“Oh.” That’s not on the schedule, which Kara has memorized through the next six months at least. She screwed up on the occasional lunch, double-booked one or two budget meetings, and even forgot to book the jet for Cat one time when she wanted to go shopping in Paris, but Kara never dared mess with the Carter plans. Subject to a messy custody battle and a bunch of concessions neither parent had wanted to make, Kara knew that only Carter asking specifically could change the days he spent with Cat or his father. She also knew how devastating that would be to Cat, no matter how well she’s currently hiding it.

“So?” Cat’s trademark impatience is back at the forefront. “Are you coming out or not?”

“Sure,” Kara agrees, if for no other reason than distracting Cat from dwelling on Carter is a mission even a powerless superhero can handle. “What did you have in mind?”

 

* * *

 

Kara wriggles on the backseat of the town car, trying to pull the dress down at least another inch or two. The minute she lets go, the clinging material rides right back up her thigh. Cat smirks, and tries to blink the words ‘riding’ and ‘Kara’s thigh’ from her mind with very little success.

“You know, my coat is right there in the trunk-” Kara begins, but Cat cuts her off with a wiggle of her index finger.

“Don’t you dare. Kara, you missed out on any number of formative influences due to your powers, not least a real girls’ night out in college… or wherever.”

“I went out!” Kara protests. “Lots of times.”

“And spent the whole night wrangling drunk girls out of compromising situations before driving them home like a mother hen?” Cat guesses. Kara’s blush suggests she hit the bullseye. “No one works harder than you, with the obvious exception of me. So now that you can finally navigate cocktails and shots in a killer dress, who better to be your guide?”

“Actually my sister is a high-functioning alcoholic, I’m pretty sure,” Kara sasses, meaning Cat has hit some kind of nerve. “But then I guess she’s not available.”

“Exactly.” Cat will brook no further argument. “And though you’ve been improving, I couldn’t take you to the hottest new clubs in National City wearing a _shift_ dress, Kara. This is much better.”

“It’s also tailored for you,” Kara argues, crossing her arms over her chest, which really just draws more emphasis to her bare arms and shoulders. Max (Azria, not Lord thank God) had sent over a few new things from his fall line, and if the fabric emphasizes a curve or two more sharply, well that’s just good fortune for everyone who gets to set eyes on Kara tonight. That it compliments Cat’s own Hervé Léger dress is just the icing on the cake. While hers retains the full bodice, Kara has some strategic cut-out panels that make Cat consider belief in a higher power. “And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“Slice,” Cat says, as though that answers anything at all. The only person less likely to know National City’s hotspots than her these days is Kara. But in the stack of invites she rifled through it was the most expensive and the least detailed, both of which suggest some level of _cool_. Which isn’t remotely the word she should be using, but on someone quite so delightfully nerdy as Kara, Cat doesn’t feel quite as old as this whole setup makes her feel. “And we’re here.”

It’s opening night, but the red carpet is thankfully more of a doormat. They only have to dodge a bunch of phone cameras until the seven-foot bouncer waves them through, the thud of music hitting them like a wall as soon as the inner doors open.

“Bet you’re glad you have human ears tonight,” Cat leans in to yell right by Kara’s ear. Only Kara’s turning to say something to her and Cat’s lips brush Kara’s cheek. Honestly, Cat expects Kara to leap halfway across the room in shock, powers or not, but she seems to surprise herself by leaning into the contact, until Cat is the one to pull away. Mercifully, the club’s owner - Gaye Dunaway herself - comes to lead Cat to her VIP booth in back. It’s just trying to avoid losing Kara in the throng that makes Cat grab Kara by the hand while they make their way through the club. She has no ulterior motive at all.

It’s quieter in back, although Gaye in glorious full drag offers to turn on an extra speaker for them. Cat’s relieved to see Kara’s shake of the head is as vehement as her own.

“You’ll start with shots,” Gaye announces before disappearing back into the crowd. Cat takes a seat in the corner, unable to shake the habit of being queen of all she surveys. Kara sits tentatively at the right hand corner of their L-shaped booth, prodding at the leather bench once she’s sitting on it.

“I won’t bite,” Cat tells her, and it’s only truthful because she isn’t sure she’ll ever have the opportunity. Getting Kara drunk tonight isn’t about taking advantage, it’s genuinely about letting the girl blow off some steam. Cat also suspects some genuine relaxation will do more to bring back Kara’s powers than most of the micro-managing she’ll be doing already, but knows better than to voice such things. Regardless, Kara slides along the space until she’s within grasping distance of Cat’s right hand. Cat flexes her fingers and reminds herself once more that she will do no grasping. She notices Kara frowning at the leather again.

“What?” Cat snaps, though her temper is barely heated. She just knows it’s the quickest way to get an honest response, particularly from Kara Danvers, the easily flustered.

“It feels… different,” Kara confides. “I’m always sort of aware of how things feel, but is it really like this for you all the time? Every time you sit down to think ‘this is leather’ and ‘this is pressed against my skin’?”

“You take it for granted after a while,” Cat says after swallowing around a sudden lump in her throat. “But now you’ve made me think about it, yes. I’m very aware that there’s leather against the bare part of my thigh. It’s not unpleasant.”

“Oh, no,” Kara rushes to agree. “It’s fine. I’ll think about something else.”

Luckily for her, a waitress shows up with a flight of shots. The glasswork is exquisite, and Cat suspects not what they’re serving with out there in the rabble. Good. She expects a little elaboration when she bothers to show up to these things. Kara is staring at the row of - Cat leans forward to sniff, getting the telltale hint of agave - tequila like it might start glowing green at any moment.

“You don’t have to,” Cat assures her, leaning in to take a glass. Apparently that’s all the encouragement Kara needs, that damn hero bravado having her do exactly the same a few seconds later. She downs her shot in one spluttering movement before Cat can suggest otherwise. The look on Kara’s face is priceless but she licks her lips as she recovers.

“Kinda sweet,” she says. “Not what I expected.”

“Why didn’t you try it, before?” Cat asks. “If it wouldn’t affect you anyway, you could have put away as much as you liked. Plus, no hangovers.”

“I got tired of acting drunk and always worrying I wouldn’t pull it off,” Kara admits. “So by the time everyone got past wine coolers I just made excuses. Told them I was religious, in AA, whatever worked.”

“My name’s Kara and alcohol bounces off my alien physiology,” Cat intones with mock seriousness. “Although there’s a group that wouldn’t be able to tell your secret. If you needed to confide to anyone else.”

“I wouldn’t use them like that,” Kara sighs. “Wait, why is there fruit?”

“Oh Kara, you need to learn to do these things right.” Cat gestures to the bowl of in the center of the glasses, ringed with lime wedges. “But there’s no one way to do tequila shots. You can pick our poison.”

“Well, I didn’t like the way I just did it,” Kara confesses. “So what are my options?” All that’s missing is her notepad and pen. She has a way of looking to Cat as though she possesses every piece of knowledge in the universe, and sometimes that makes Cat as uneasy as it makes her a little proud.

“Relax, no one’s saying you have to skip straight to body shots,” Cat teases, enjoying how that makes Kara’s eyes widen.

“Why can’t I?” Kara demands, the challenge already between her teeth. “What’s the big deal?”

“It’s quite simple, you smear the salt on a willing… body,” Cat explains. “Lick it off, take your shot, and then suck on the presented lime.” If she makes it through this conversation alive and sane, it will be a miracle at this stage.

“Your Earth rituals would have shocked the hell out of Krypton,” Kara says, shaking her head. “How is the lime, uh, presented?”

Cat taps her lips. “The willing body holds the lime right here.”

“Oh.” Kara blushes, the vibrant pink showing even in the blue shadows of the club lighting. “Well, you said I had to experience all this stuff. Does that mean you’re… willing?” To her credit, Kara doesn’t look away. She stares Cat directly in the eye, and it’s a shade of brazen that for a moment has Cat worried. Then she recognizes the natural boldness for what it is: Kara stepping up. She’s being doing that so often lately that Cat’s been taking it for granted.

“I promised you an authentic girls’ night out,” Cat reminds her. “This is as much part of it as wet t-shirts and propositioning the bartender.”

“You’re never letting me put a wet t-shirt near your dress,” Kara points out, before picking up a wedge of lime and offering it to Cat. She grudgingly accepts, and is thankful beyond measure that her hand doesn’t shake when she plucks the citrus from Kara’s fingers. “So, um, where does the salt go?”

“Somewhere accessible,” is all Cat can think to say. Kara might be bold enough to choose the inside of Cat’s wrist. Or she might be terrified enough to scare her powers back into herself - as she confided to Cat not long after the Big Reveal - and fly out of the damn club, never to be seen again.

This is why Cat should have kept walking when she heard Kara bemoaning her lack of a social life. This is why _friends_ as a compromise to keep Kara at close quarters in Cat’s life is the most dangerous concept since Russian roulette. And there is definitely a bullet in the chamber when Kara dips her finger in the salt with the careless ease of a finger painter, and scrubs it across the sharp line of Cat’s clavicle.

“Oh shoot!” Kara exclaims, because of course she still says shoot. “It didn’t stick.”

And there are a host of plausible ways to fix that, Cat knows, but she’s created a very particular, very attractive kind of monster it would seem. Because Kara - of the demure cardigans and aforementioned saying of ‘shoot’ has seen fit to solve this tiny problem by leaning in close enough to run her tongue back across Cat’s collarbone, a perfect reversal of the route her finger just took. It’s enough to distract Cat from the fact that there must be salt spilled down her dress, that is for damn sure.

“Sorry,” Kara’s natural fluster rises as surely as the sun will in the east tomorrow morning. “I just thought because I have to lick the salt off anyway…”

“Right,” Cat practically swallows the word, but her nod is reassurance enough. She really should have insisted on having her own drink first. Thank God she had a stiff Scotch before leaving the office. “Initiative,” she adds approvingly, and that’s enough to have Kara repeat her salt smearing, this time to greater effect.

“So…” Kara picks up her shot and nods to the lime that Cat is still holding like a forgotten cigarette between her fingertips. “Lick, drink, suck, right?”

 _Cause of death_ , the coroner’s report will read. _Kara Danvers saying the word ‘suck’._

With a hopefully withering sigh, Cat pops the wedge of lime between her lips. She feels ridiculous, is quite sure she looks ridiculous, and yet when Kara fixes that gaze on her, Cat can’t feel anything but desired. She’s always suspected Kara’s little power crush might be something more in the vein of Cat’s own distraction, but tonight even lead-lined glasses can’t hide that hunger in Kara’s blue eyes. If that’s the spark of something, then Cat has all but doused them in gasoline with her oh-so-brilliant idea for a Friday night out.

But then Kara isn’t gazing at her anymore, because Kara has dipped her head again and she’s running her warm, slick tongue with feathery precision across the salt that she laid for herself like a treasure map. When she pulls back to take her drink, her lips are glistening, and Cat can’t do anything but stare, transfixed, when Kara tips her head back to swallow. Her elegant neck is practically inviting Cat’s touch, but she can’t kiss that exposed skin with a stupid lime in her mouth.

The same stupid lime that Kara is zeroing in on for landing. Cat forgets how to breathe in the expanding, endless milliseconds it takes Kara to close that gap between them. The impact of her lips on the other side of the lime wedge resonates through Cat’s entire body like an explosion, when only her lips and tongue should absorb it. There’s the faintest sound of Kara sucking on the sweet fruit, barely audible in the continuing din of the club, but before Cat can savor it, the lime is being carelessly tossed aside and there’s just Kara’s breath mingling with her own.

“Is this what you wanted?” Kara whispers, watching Cat’s mouth like a woman on a mission. “Please, tell me this is what you meant.”

“I wanted you to try new things,” Cat can barely breathe in response. “And I already told you I’m willing.”

The end of the word is lost to Kara’s mouth on hers, no obstacle between them now. The salt and lime and sticky sweet agave taste delicious on Kara’s lips, and it’s only more intense when her tongue slides over Cat’s, taking control of the kiss in a way Cat could only have dreamed of.

“Well?” Cat demands when they finally part for a moment, Kara’s hair pulled from its messy bun by Cat’s questing fingers, and both dresses less perfectly smooth than they were before they sat down together. “Does that feel different without your powers, Supergirl?”

“I don’t think the lack of powers are to blame,” Kara defends herself, quite serious again. “But that was definitely the best kiss I’ve ever been part of, so if that is to blame, I don’t want them back anytime soon.”

“How flattering,” Cat dismisses the notion with a little wave, trying to gather some semblance of her usual cool. “I confess the investigator in me is a little fascinated by how different everything must seem to you like this. How all five senses can be altered, what everyday human experiences you’re only having for the first time.”

“The science nerd in me is kind of intrigued too,” Kara confesses. “You know, they could come back any day now. I should really find out once and for all what changes when I’m powerless.”

Cat bites her lip at the way Kara uses the word, the images of a superhero bound and blindfolded and entirely under Cat’s control is almost too seductive to bear. Coupled with Kara’s natural desire to serve and her quiet addiction to praise, it’s more temptation than Cat has ever been capable of saying no to.

“Well, I have an empty house and an unusually quiet weekend,” Cat suggests. “We could get out of here…?”

“Nuh uh,” Kara contradicts, and Cat’s heart sinks for a moment. “Not until you have your drink. Just like I had mine.”

“Oh,” Cat can’t argue with that. “Somewhere more adventurous, perhaps? Your dress really invites it with those cut-outs.”

“You picked it.”

“That was wise of me, wasn’t it?” Cat nudges Kara’s shoulder so she leans back more against the wall of their booth. “Left or right?”

“Left,” Kara answers instantly, as though she’s been thinking about it all night. It means Cat will have to lean across her for maximum effect. The exposed triangle of skin over Kara’s ribs, with just a hint of rippling abs beneath is enough to make Cat’s mouth water.

“Fine,” she agrees, reaching for the tiny dish of salt. “But Kara, I’m a professional. I never settle for just one drink.”

“Well, we have all night and… four… shots left,” Kara glances towards the remaining glasses. “So take your time, if you want.”

“Oh,” Cat says with a wicked smirk. “I absolutely intend to.”


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara has no powers, and now that she and Cat have passed the body shots milestone, it's time to experiment and see exactly how this whole powerlessness works...

“It’s funny,” Cat sighs as she sinks back against the leather of the town car seat. “Whenever I imagined this, I always thought you’d fly me home.”

Kara stops, halfway to scrambling onto Cat’s lap. “You’ve imagined this?”

“Once or twice,” Cat lies, as transparent as she’s ever been. She jerks her head slightly, indicating Kara should continue to hop on. “And perhaps before I knew about the flying, too.”

“That’s sweet,” Kara decides, dipping her head to kiss Cat softly on the lips. Thank God for a privacy screen and drivers who never, ever ask questions. “You’re trying to reassure me that you’re not just in this for my superpowers.”

“Just as well, since you’re currently fresh out of them,” Cat sasses back, running her hands up Kara’s thighs and skirting the perilously high hem of her dress. “Still got that Supergirl confidence though,” she moans as Kara takes her kisses to the line of Cat’s jaw, a curve she’s tried to replicate a hundred times on her sketch pads, never quite doing it justice.

“You make me confident,” Kara confesses, because she doesn’t have to look Cat in the eye if she’s nuzzling that spot just beneath Cat’s ear that makes her tense up under Kara. “You make me a lot of things.”

Cat slips her hand beneath the hem of Kara’s dress, because she knows an invitation when she hears one. “Wet,” Cat observes. “For example.”

Kara keens at the gentle skimming of fingertips against her soaked underwear. She can’t quite believe that a world now exists where she has licked salt from Cat Grant’s body. Poetry has been written about those collarbones - and Kara has seen the disturbing fan mail to prove it. And now Cat has been hinting all kinds of interesting things to try while Kara is effectively human, and Kara can’t wait to try every last one of them. Or maybe she would have agreed to anything while Cat was running her tongue over Kara’s abs, but the effect is much the same.

“You do,” Kara agrees, twisting her fingers in Cat’s hair. She wonders if she can persuade Cat to wear it up for her. Kara’s only ever seen that when she’s been summoned to Cat’s side on weekends, her casual wardrobe also including hair clips while she worked on some crisis or other in ripped jeans and impossibly soft t-shirts. There’s some silly reason Cat always wears it down - Kara remembers a drunken half-rant one evening where Cat grumbled about her ears and how her mother wanted to pin them back - and just the memory makes Kara’s stomach lurch with a fresh jolt of anger.

But no. Tonight is not about angry. She can’t get everything she’s wished for and then spend the night getting distracted by people who don’t matter, saying things that aren’t true. Kara knows better than that. Cat demands better than that, and Kara is nothing if not a gold medallist in meeting Cat’s demands.

It’s both a relief and a crying shame that Slice isn’t that far from CatCo Plaza, home to both their work building and the luxury apartment tower that Cat has claimed the top two floors of as her home. Kara knows that the beachfront property is Cat’s real sanctuary, not to mention Carter’s favorite, but the convenience of prime real estate within throwing distance of her skyline-dominating achievement was apparently more than Cat could turn down.

It’s also, apparently, the place where they’re going to have sex.

The car rolls to a stop in the basement garage, staggering distance from yet another private elevator. Kara almost enjoys having to concentrate on her steps when they unfold themselves from the backseat, the driver pulling off the moment they’re out of the car.

“Tipsy?” Cat checks, pressing her thumb to the digital scanner. Kara had them upgraded, here and in the office, after Cat’s particularly short-tempered rant about cologne users invading her space. It still isn’t protection against someone like Leslie, but Kara prefers to think that Cat feels as safe as she possibly can so long as Livewire remains locked up.

“Pleasantly,” Kara sighs. “I finally get why people spend so much money to do this all the time. I feel like I could fly, even though I know I can’t.”

“Easy there, lightweight,” Cat mocks, ushering Kara into the elevator. “You’ve had a few shots, not dropped some acid.”

“We could do that too, if you want,” Kara teases, leaning in to murmur against Cat’s ear. Because she can do that now, with Cat’s hands automatically resting on Kara’s hips as she does it. “I know not all your little treats come with a prescription, Miss Grant.”

“I’ve corrupted you quite enough for one evening,” Cat argues, leaning into Kara as she starts to kiss her neck.

“Oh, we’ve got a ways to go yet,” Kara insists. “Remember, I’m all yours.”

The elevator announces their arrival in Cat’s penthouse with a muted ‘ding’, and even without her powers, Kara practically carries Cat out into the hallway.

 

* * *

 

 

With someone else, this is where the evening might descend into awkward small talk and the familiar crutch of some overly rich cognac. Cat’s not entirely surprised that being with Kara like this is exactly as comfortable as all the other time spent in her presence; somewhere along the way they’ve come to fit together perfectly.

That wasn’t supposed to be _possible._

Kara’s confidence in dragging her from the elevator seems to be waning in the artful lighting of the hall. She seems at a loss in Cat’s home, which admittedly was bought and redesigned with imposing in mind. At least for these semi-public areas. It’s why she replicated the glass walls of her office suite, a home away from home at the best of times.

Those walls and their familiarity can be used to Cat’s advantage, and when she kisses Kara again, it’s easy to steer her backwards. Using a little force, she makes sure Kara feels the impact of unbreakable glass against her usually unbreakable body. She gasps with a broad smile, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. Cat knows this now as the sight of Kara experiencing pleasure, and Cat wants nothing more than to cause it over and over again.

The dress is short, and already riding up on Kara’s thighs. It takes just the quickest yank of material to expose Kara’s perfect ass, pressing it back against the glass too and making her moan softly at the sensation.

When Cat pulls back for a moment, Kara looks lost. Almost as though she’s going to cry out at the loss. The nerves set back in almost instantly, and Cat realizes it’s time for her to take command of this unexpected evening once and for all.

“Just follow my lead,” she reassures, voice soft. “I’m going to show you all the things we talked about. Are you ready, Kara?”

Kara nods.

Cat takes her hand, and leads her with purposeful strides towards her bedroom.

 

* * *

 

“There,” Cat announces, having secured the silk straps of the blindfold behind Kara’s head. “Some people like to be lazy, rely on a bit of elastic. But if we’re going to see how it really feels for you, with no x-ray vision to peek... I don’t want you getting even a glimmer of light through this. So, a knot.”

“You’re kinda bossy,” Kara teases. “Not-not that I’m complaining. You know I like that.”

“I’ve noticed,” Cat confirms, and Kara feels her moving back slightly. “God, Kara. Why did it take me so long to get you here, like this? I know I’m a genius, but sometimes I fear I’m a very slow one.”

“You’re still a genius.” Kara tugs on the silk binding each of her wrists. “Were you a Girl Scout or something?”

“I sail,” Cat says, in that offhand way she has. “If you’re good I’ll take you out on my yacht sometime. Now, you remember your word? In case all this gets to be too much?”

“Yes, yes.” Kara is impatient. She practically whines around the words. Cat has her teased within an inch of her sanity, bound on her ridiculously comfortable bed with satin sheets cool against Kara’s naked skin. Cat, whose skin Kara has licked and kissed and sucked already, is just within grabbing distance. But Kara’s hands are bound and she’s entirely at Cat’s mercy.

Just thinking in those terms makes Kara even wetter, and she wriggles her hips a little, trying to get some kind of pressure from squeezing her thighs together.

Cat stops that promptly with a sharp slap to Kara’s thigh. She cries out. Cat hums, patient in a way Kara has never associated with her.

“I can tie your ankles too, Kara,” Cat warns. “But I’m trusting you to do exactly as you’re told tonight. I promise you’ll get everything you want,” she adds, leaning over Kara to whisper those words against her ear. Kara shivers in anticipation. Not being able to see Cat approaching each time puts a delicious edge on each move she makes.

“Now since you’re so delightfully sensitive in this state,” Cat continues, pulling up and away. There’s a gentle creak as she steps down onto the floor. Kara’s hips tilt, missing her instantly. “I thought we’d experiment a little with sensation. You told me before that you don’t always notice the difference in materials, it’s all the same to you if you’re wearing linen or leather. I think that’s a terrible waste, don’t you?”

“Uh, sure?” Kara replies. The way Cat’s voice wraps around the word leather conjures all sorts of flashing images in Kara’s mind. She wonders just what kind of accessories Cat is rummaging around the room for. It’s impossible to tell when some things are dropped on the bed beside Kara’s leg.

All of a sudden there’s the scratch and whoosh of a match, the faint smell of burning off to the side of the bed. Kara sighs in contentment at the faint floral scent of a lit candle. She can handle a little romance, even if she didn’t expect from Cat at this stage.

“Nice,” she remarks, smiling despite how foolish it feels from behind a blindfold.

“The candle?” Cat asks. “Oh, I suppose it makes for a little ambience. It has more interesting uses though. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“What’s first?” Kara asks.

“You know, you’re a little chatty,” Cat points out, gripping Kara’s chin with strong fingers. “The whole point of my controlling this little moment between us is that you don’t do anything - speak, move, _come_ \- without my permission. Am I going to have to gag you too?”

Kara opens her mouth to say ‘no’, but thinks better of it. She shakes her head instead.

“Better,” Cat announces. “Now, if I think you’ve earned it, I might explain what I’m doing as we go along. Until I do, all I want to hear from you are your uncensored reactions, understood? Whatever sound you feel compelled to make, you make it. If I think you’re holding back, being modest on me after all this… I will not be pleased, Kara.”

Kara nods.

“And if I’m not pleased?” Cat leans in again, voice low and dangerous. “Then I’ll get myself off and leave you desperately unsatisfied, unable to do anything more than listen. Do I make myself clear?”

Kara nods again. Her shoulders relax and her mind starts to clear. She can do this. She just has to do what it takes to make Cat happy. And that is making Kara very, very happy indeed. Her inner thighs are already slick, and Cat has barely touched her since they came into the room, save for tying her up.

“Oh,” Cat traces a single finger down Kara’s breastbone, charting a path between her breasts and making her breath catch in her throat. “I’m beginning to suspect you were made for this. It’s going to be hard to hold back with you, I can already tell.”

“Then don’t,” Kara whispers, biting her lip when she realizes she’s spoken without permission. Sure enough, a moment later she feels a finger pressed against her lips, silencing her. She kisses it softly in acknowledgment, and Cat murmurs in appreciation.

“That’s your last slip,” Cat warns. “Now let’s see how this feels, hmm?”

Kara holds her breath until the first skimming touch across her abs. Leather, she recognizes after a moment. Strands of leather that barely touch at all, Cat’s motions so light and quick. Kara breathes out, and it shudders out of her chest as she relaxes into the chasing touches, twitching each time one lands for a second.

“How does it feel?” Cat presses, dragging the fringes over Kara’s hard nipples. She hisses in response, back arching into the touch in the hope of more. “Gentle is one thing, but with a little force…”

Kara cries out as the short strands of leather crack against her skin. She can picture what Cat is touching her with now, the furtive exploration of human sexuality is a habit that has never quite left Kara. Although she’s paranoid enough to have asked Winn for some failsafe ways of wiping her internet history, just in case.

Cat settles into position, straddling Kara’s thigh. Wearing no dress and clearly no underwear, judging by the drag of slick heat and wet curls along Kara’s leg. It’s second nature to tense the muscles there, raising her thigh slightly to provide resistance. Cat moans in appreciation.

“You’re flawless,” Cat mutters, running her fingers over the stinging marks she’s left on Kara’s skin. “It’s quite the power trip, being able to mark you. I suppose I’m giving away quite how you’re affecting me.” She rolls her hips with a satisfied sigh. “Oh well.”

Thumbs drag over her already sensitive nipples and Kara hears a sobbing moan build in her throat, escaping gradually with each pass of Cat’s strong fingers. Not being able to see Cat move, or even see the wicked smirk (and oh, Kara knows it’s there) as Cat plots what to do with Kara next.

When fingers retreat, Kara feels the slight pressure of Cat lying on top of her, warm and impossibly soft skin that Kara wants too badly to be able to touch. Before she can protest that and break Cat’s rules about no talking, there’s the flicker of a tongue across Kara’s left nipple.

A warning shot, it seems, because Cat’s mouth is as relentless as it is when issuing orders at the office. Cat peppers kisses over the curve of Kara’s breasts, tracing dusky pink circles with flat swipes of her tongue, before capturing hard nipples in turn. The sucking is forceful, and Kara cries out as she pushes herself against Cat’s mouth, greedy for more. The reward is the nip of Cat’s teeth and there’s a blinding moment where Kara thinks she might come from this alone.

Cat, to her credit, notices the force of Kara’s reaction, retreating with open-mouthed kisses over her abdomen.

“You _do_ like it when it hurts,” Cat deduces, her voice a husky murmur somewhere against Kara’s hipbone. “But I’m not going to make it that easy for you, darling. I want you begging before I let you come.”

 _Let me_? Kara replays the words in her head, noticing just how much her body tenses at the thought. This is where she’s supposed to be. This is the one person she can trust to handle Kara at her most powerful, and at her weakest. Kara doesn’t have to make the decisions, or take responsibility, or keep a single secret tonight.

She’s going to do exactly what Cat tells her. And she’s going to enjoy every last second of it.

 

* * *

 

Cat sits up, straddling Kara’s hips this time, and reaches for the candle on the night stand. Her right hand is as steady as ever, and she inhales the beautiful scent of the melting wax, perfumed as delicately as everything else that Cat surrounds herself with. She’s not about to start apologizing for liking beautiful things.

Speaking of which, Kara is writhing against her bonds now, the sheets crumpled beneath her and her golden skin shining from the exertion of all her reactions so far. That two silk scarves should be enough to restrain the Girl of Steel feels something like a miracle, but Cat has a sense of a clock ticking somewhere. This window will slam shut, and although she’s already entertaining a hundred other fantasies of _next time_ and _again_ , it feels vital that she show Kara exactly what she’s been missing.

“I bought these candles,” Cat starts to explain. “Because when they burn, they turn into a kind of massage oil. I’m sure it doesn’t surprise you that when I look at these muscles of yours, Kara,” Cat runs her nails over defined abs. “These obliques, these abs… that I’ve wondered how it would feel to rub my hands all over them.”

Kara swallows, and nods for Cat to continue.

“So when I blow out this candle,” Cat carries on, clutching the ceramic pot that holds the candle. “I’m going to drip this warm wax on you, like my own personal canvas. Then I’m going to take my time massaging you.”

“Please,” Kara murmurs, rocking her hips underneath Cat to underline the enthusiasm.

“Remember, if it’s too much-”

“ _Please_ ,” Kara insists.

Cat purses her lips, and blows gently. The candle flickers out with a wisp of scented smoke. Holding it at head height, she tilts her wrist and lets the first drop trickle towards the edge. It hangs, motionless for a second, and Cat sees Kara suck in a deep, slightly desperate breath in anticipation.

Then it falls, and lands with an anti-climactic splash against Kara’s abdominal muscles, which ripple in a way that makes Cat’s mouth water. The hiss of pleasure, the moan that chases it, well that’s almost enough to make Cat come on the spot. She steels herself, waits for Kara’s full attention, and lets another drop fall.

When enough has fallen to mark a decent-sized ‘C’ (Cat is nothing if not on brand) she sets the candle carefully back on the nightstand, running her fingers through the warmed oil on Kara’s stomach. Settling back into position, Cat starts to massage in earnest. She settles not just for the definition that so appeals, but spreads the soft caresses over hips and sides, before taking her time to massage Kara’s breasts, those two perfect handfuls that are apparently endlessly sensitive.

Kara is whimpering with raw, unabashed need by the time Cat relents and decides to shift focus. She can feel the girl thrumming with want beneath her, and it’s a high that Cat won’t soon forget.

“Okay, Kara,” she soothes, shimmying down the bed and settling with her mouth poised between Kara’s thighs. “You’ve been so good. I think it’s time I gave you your reward.”

The incoherent plea in response is all the encouragement Cat needs.

 

* * *

 

From behind the darkness of her silk blindfold, Kara is aware of the warm oil soaking into her skin, the delicious scent of it, but she mourns Cat’s touch the very moment it halts. She doesn’t have to mourn for long though, because soon those delicate but strong hands are gripping Kara’s thighs, dragging short and manicured nails down the sensitive and slick skin inside each leg.

Teasing, Cat blows gently over Kara’s dripping wetness, and Kara practically yelps with the need for more, immediately. She’s so wound up it feels like something has to snap - her patience, the silk at her wrists, the bedframe… but with regular human strength everything holds her completely at Cat’s mercy.

 _You’ve been so good_ , Kara hears, and it’s like a bolt of electricity straight to her clit, a tugging feeling that extends behind both nipples as though Cat has some invisible chain between them. The thought of Cat adorning Kara’s body with chains, fine but strong links of metal, adds an additional excited shiver.

She can’t concentrate on further fantasy once Cat’s mouth descends on her, tongue forceful and direct in ways that Kara can barely control her reactions to. She’s determined to hold out, to prolong the delicious agony as long as possible, but Cat on a mission is not someone who will be denied. She licks on a rhythm of her own devising, swirling the tip of her tongue when Kara least expects it. By the time Cat forms an ‘o’ around Kara’s clit and starts to suck, there’s no holding back.

Kara could swear that Cat pauses just long enough to mutter ‘come’ against her, but with permission or not she does. The world goes white and Kara’s muscles contract and Cat doesn’t stop, simply alternates the pressure of her lips and tongue until Kara is aware of something tearing, her wrists free, and the familiar weightlessness that’s been missing for days.

When she gathers her faculties, Kara finds herself floating above Cat’s bed, at least five feet in the air. Cat, the damn perfectionist, has simply raised herself to standing as she licks Kara gently into her second - no, third - orgasm with her hands on Kara’s hips to stop her rising any higher.

Kara comes down from the high by literally coming down from too close to the ceiling, pulling Cat on top of her and then promptly rolling over.

“Powers are back,” she sighs, kissing Cat’s collarbone with reverence. “Guess you were all the adrenaline I needed.”

“I’ll just be grateful you didn’t laser chunks out of my ceiling.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara mumbles, and maybe it’s the surge of emotions but she really thinks she might cry. “I should have done everything you wanted to you first.”

“It’s not that late, Kara,” Cat sounds puzzled. “You’re surely not that much of a pillow princess?”

“A what?” Kara props up on her elbows. “No, I mean you only wanted to try this because my powers were out, because I was safe. Now I’m no good to you.”

“Kara?” Cat takes Kara’s chin between thumb and forefinger. “First of all, I have never needed to come this badly _in my life._ Even if that weren’t true, don’t you think I want to know how it feels to be held, to be fucked by a full-powered superhero?”

“You do?”

“Of course I do,” Cat reassures. “You’re magnificent. Powers, no powers… I want more than just these few hours. I assume from that sugar addict in a candy store expression, you want more, too?”

“So much more,” Kara admits. “God, I don’t know where to start…”

Cat grabs Kara’s wrist and directs her hand between Cat’s thighs. “Here would be a start,” Cat suggests, voice high and tight, hazel eyes sparkling with lust. “Don’t hold back.”

Kara leans down to kiss Cat once more, a promise and a catalyst in one.

“Hold on,” she warns, and Cat clutches the sheets with a contented grin. “I’m going to show you what powerful really looks like.”


End file.
